Untitled
by Kendra A
Summary: [Angel: the Series X-Over] Willow, Spike, Buffy, Riley, Angel, Cordy, Gunn and Fred get together and question common fanfiction stereotypes. Then they hit the motherlode... the official transcripts...


Title: 

Author: Kendra A. (kendraangelusslayer@yahoo.com)

Rating: PG

Summary: Willow, Spike, Buffy, Riley, Angel, Cordy, Fred and Gunn sort through some stereotypical fanfics and then hit the motherlode.

'Ships: Well, not really, but Willow/Spike, Buffy/Riley, Angel/Cordy and Fred/Gunn

Spoilers: Pretty much all. Nothing too specific, though.

Dedication: To Len. Hi, Len! I've decided to put myself on the line for flames. I hope people aren't too cruel…

"This is some of the weirdest stuff I've ever read," Willow commented as she flipped shut another heavy manuscript.

"Oh?" Spike said, kicking his feet up onto Angel's antique wooden table and crossing his legs.

"I… don't… I'm not really like this," Willow continued, frowning. 

Spike leaned forward and picked up a sheaf of paper that was held together with a paperclip from the huge pile of documents next to Willow's elbow. "Like what?"

"Well…" She nibbled hesitantly on her bottom lip and then made a frustrated sound. "I can't believe I just did that!"

"Did what?" Buffy said, coming in from the kitchen. She stood behind her best friend to peer down at the tiny print. 

"I nibbled on my bottom lip, just like it says here." Willow brandished the papers at the Slayer, who grabbed them before she got smacked in the face. Buffy's brow furrowed. 

"You nibble on your lip sometimes, don't you? Doesn't everybody?" Buffy nibbled on her own bottom lip, realized what she was doing, and made a face. "Does anybody have any chapstick?"

"And, okay, I think my hair is a nice color, but it's never been what you'd call 'fiery'," Willow said, confused. "Or 'blood red'. It's a kind of healthy reddish brown. And, hello, it's not natural."

"I could have told you that," Spike muttered, leering unsubtly across the table.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Spike, I ought to dump you." She grinned at the hurt look he gave her. "But I won't. Because you're great in bed." Her happy expression abruptly changed again as she picked up another set of papers and slid them across the table to her lover. "These drive me nuts," she said. "I do *not* have trouble saying 'sex'. These keep saying I'm, like, a super-prude or something. I'm not! SEX! See? S-E-X! *Sex*."

"Okay, Wills, we got it," Buffy muttered. She turned a page in the document she held. "I *so* do not act like this!"

"Let me see?" Willow bent backwards to look up at her friend. Buffy handed her the doc and frowned, bracing her hands on her hips. Willow gasped. "Buffy, you would *never* act like this? Why would you try to stake Spike if I told you I was going out with him?"

"I would tell him he'd see daylight if he hurt you, and I might *threaten* him with a stake," the Slayer admitted ("*Might* threaten?" Spike echoed), but I'd never actually *kill* him if you said he made you happy!"

"Spike, am I tiny?" Willow asked worriedly. "I mean, abnormally small?"

Spike frowned. "No…"

"Because they keep saying I'm tiny. Tiny hands, petite frame… I don't wear petites, Buffy does!"

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "Why do people care how tall I am?"

Riley came down the stairs from the second floor of the mansion and wrapped his arms around her. "It's because they don't expect someone so adorable to pack such a punch."

Buffy beamed. "Aw… You think I'm adorable?"

"*I* think I might heave," Spike said unhelpfully as Riley kissed his girlfriend's forehead.

"Because, y'know, I'm really not that short," Willow insisted. "I'm five-foot-seven. That's above average, isn't it?"

"Why are we talking about your height, Willow?" Cordelia asked as she, Angel, Fred and Gunn entered the front doors.

"I'm not short!" Willow wailed.

"Ssh, pet, it's okay," Spike said, leaning across the table to stroke her arm. She smiled at him gratefully.

"You're not short," Cordelia said, gently bumping Buffy with her hip as she stepped up behind Willow. "Aren't you my height?"

"Don't we all have the same shoe size?" Buffy asked.

"Size seven?" Willow asked, wiggling her toes inside of her low-heeled boots.

"Seven," Buffy confirmed.

"Yeah, seven," Cordelia said. "People always say I'm taller than I am, you know. It's just that I wear high heels all the time. Angel's way taller than me."

"See, this is something that bothers me," Angel said. "I've heard so many times that Spike and I are the same size. He's three inches shorter than I am!"

"Two!" Spike growled, turning in his chair to glare at his grandsire.

"Wait," Fred said softly. "Sire or grandsire?"

Spike and Angel both looked completely baffled for a moment. "I haven't the slightest, luv," Spike admitted. "And how old am I, anyway? I used to be nearly 200—and then 126—and now I'm, what, 122?"

"Well, at least my age is for certain," Angel said. "249, not counting my human years."

"Actually," Gunn said, rifling through a toppled pile of stapled manuscripts, "Here it says you were *born* in 1753, not turned."

"What, this is supposed to certify how old I really am?" Angel muttered, taking the thick sheaf from his friend.

"Look," Cordelia said, pointing. "It says, 'Official Script for 'Buffy: the Vampire Slayer', Season 2, "Halloween."'" 

"But I was *so* sure Darla turned me in 1753…" Angel moaned.

"What's up with this?" Gunn said angrily, showing his find to Fred. "I'm not a character from 'Blacula'. I know how to speak English."

"I know you do, Charles," Fred said reassuringly, patting his arm. Then she took a closer look at the papers he held. "I am *not* that obsessed with tacos!"

"I stopped stuttering *years* ago," Willow said desperately. "What is *wrong* with these people?"

"Um…" Buffy and Riley were both bent over, leaning their elbows on the table as they read. "Buffy," Riley said, "Your eyes aren't blue, they're green."

"Do you know how many times people have said my eyes are blue?" the Slayer asked, rolling the aforementioned eyes. "I just ignore them."

"Okay, my eyes are more of a hazel than a bright emerald, don't you think?" Willow asked anyone who would listen, widening her eyes as much as she could. "I don't think they actually *glow*…"

"I don't *always* wear black!" Angel exclaimed.

"You do most of the time," Cordy pointed out. "Find something else to complain about."

"I maintain that I am *not* short!" Willow hissed. "I almost look eye-to-eye with Spike when he's not wearing those dumb Doc Martens. He's only three inches taller than me!" 

Everyone looked at the bleached-blond vampire, expecting him to protest. He just shrugged. "'S true," he said. "I'm—to put it in American terms—five-foot-ten."

"So, Willow, what do you use to dye your hair?" Cordelia asked interestedly.

"See? *Cordelia* knows the red isn't natural!" Willow muttered. "Henna. But I had it blonde for a little while last summer. I hated that look."

"If I had been alive to see it, I would have, too," Buffy said. "But I think I was, because, see? Here are all of these pictures of us—"

"Those are publicity photos, Buffy," Riley said, shuffling through them. "How come I'm not in any of these? And, honestly, I don't make *that* many of these stupid 'home grown' comments anymore…"

"I'm four inches taller than Buffy, you know," Willow was telling Fred as the other girl nodded eagerly. "She just wears those stupid *platforms*…"

"You know, I haven't worn a black leather jacket in quite a while," Angel said. "I gave it up so Spike and I wouldn't have to compete for attention. The duster wins any day, too, stupid bleached bastard."

Spike smirked.

"My eyes aren't dark brown, they're hazel," Cordelia said. "And I don't say 'like' that much…"

"And Spike doesn't feed from me during sex," Willow continued to her rapt audience, which had grown to include Fred, Gunn and Riley, "Because he has the *chip*! How can he bite me if he has a chip in his head?"

"Some of this is pretty far-fetched," Spike said, getting up to join his red-head—er, henna-dyed brunette. "You don't actually scream that loudly during orgas—"

"More than I needed to hear," Buffy said, clamping her palm over the blond vampire's mouth.

"Does this Anya girl still actually talk about sex that much?" Gunn asked Riley, who stood next to him.

Riley shook his head. "Not that I know of…"

"Hey," Fred said. She had been neatly piling the abandoned sheaves by her feet. "What's this?" She held it up.

" 'Complete Transcription of "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer's" Sixth Season,'" Cordy read slowly.

"This ought to be more accurate than those—what do you call 'em? Fanfictions," Angel muttered, pushing his hands into his pockets.

Spike and Buffy shifted nervously in their respective places. "Uh, guys…" Buffy said. "I don't know if…"

"…You might not really want to read that so very much," Spike interrupted her.

"Why, honey?" Willow asked innocently. "What happens?"

Buffy and Spike exchanged an extremely uneasy glance. "You don't really want to know…"

"Well, here's something else official-looking," Riley said. " 'Complete Transcription of "Angel's" Third Season." 

Gunn gulped. "How about we just dump that down the well?"

"We don't have a well, Charles," Fred informed him quietly.

"I think it sounds interesting," Buffy said, reaching for it.

"Fine," Gunn retorted, snatching the "Buffy" transcripts from his girlfriend's fingers. "This sounds like a bestseller to me!"

"Oooh, let me see!" Willow said, scrambling to his side.

"I want to see what happens in L.A.," Riley said cheerfully, and stood by Buffy.

"I think I want to stay next to Willow and make sure she knows I still adore her," Spike said uneasily, and joined the group reading the "Buffy" transcript.

"I don't want to know," Angel said of both sets of scripts, and decided to go for a walk in the garden outside the mansion.

"I think I'll go with Angel," Cordelia said hastily, and left.

"Fred?" Gunn asked.

She gulped and her eyes darted nervously to the "Angel" transcript. "I think I'll stay as far away from that as I can," she replied, and darted to the "Buffy" group.

"Fine," Buffy said. She and Riley made their way to slightly less dusty corner of the mansion and sat down to open the "Angel" scripts.

"Fine," said Gunn, just as venomously, and he, Fred, Willow and Spike sat down to read…

Okay, folks. I know it was strange, but I'd still like to know what you think. Flames aren't exactly welcome, but at least I'd know you were paying attention to me. :)


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